Rilic
by mmp89
Summary: As Rilic Huewester leaves the planet of Worthlia, he recounts his life on its povertystricken surface as a homeless boy taken in by a kind stranger embarking on adventures with his friends.


A vast ocean of stars, gas and almost endless nothing lay before me, laced with opportunities and dangers and I felt an overwhelming sense of fear. Behind me was the planet I had spent my entire life, and before me was everything I had ever dreamed of, and yet those old feelings of doubt and fear would not go away.

I looked to the great creature to my left, my co-pilot Chrelly, a short but immensely strong Iolis. His skin was covered with blaster-deflecting scales and several long, pointed teeth were pursed underneath his leathery lips. His round yellow eyes found my own.

"I know the feeling, kid, but you'll never look back again," he spoke in Geeng, the common language. His words did little to allay my fears, but his presence was more than comfort enough to continue. He smiled as I activated the ship systems and boosted the sublight engines. I was as ready as I'd ever be. Soon the blue and green world of Worthliaa was behind me and I was free.

The first I know of my life was living on the streets of Hurliash, the primary city of Worthliaa. I was around seven years old – or at least that'd what I think, I'm not sure of my correct age at all – and very, very hungry. It was this immense hunger that burns the day into my mind, so food must have been at least accessible not long before hand.

I also vividly remember my appearance: a light blue tunic and sand coloured shorts and a mop of unkempt dirty blonde hair covered my head that I kept brushing from my eyes. Hanging from my neck was a white string chain ending in a silver pendant, something I was sure for many years was a link to my past.

I was so hungry on that day that I would have begun to eaten my own arm if I hadn't eaten soon, but a gualli fruit rolled towards me, stopping at my feet. A tall human with dark skin and a long black beard smiled at me.

"Eat, little one. I wouldn't want you to steal this from my stall up the street, but I haven't seen you eat once in the four days since you came here."

I quickly gulped down the fruit. It was slightly bruised and not entirely pleasant but I was so hungry that it tasted like nothing I have eaten before or since. It was water in a desert (something I had plenty of, albeit it disgusting rain- and spit-filled liquid from a fountain near the alley I was sleeping in).

I was about to thank the stranger, but he disappeared. I saw him walking slowly, his baldhead clear above the busy shoppers, towards a group of fruit and vegetable sellers lined along the street.

I felt happy. I had known the feeling before, but not, it seems, for a long time. I sucked the juice off my fingers and licked the rest of it from its orange skin.

Those nights, the first I really remember, were hard ones. Hurliash was in the southern hemisphere of the Worthliaa, in a way that gave it a hot climate, but the nights suffered from cloudless skies and were sometimes bitterly cold.

All I had was my tunic and shorts, clothes unsuitable for such cold nights, and I had to hunch up behind a dustbin to keep away from the wind.

It was on one of the coldest nights that the tall, mysterious strange approached me again. He knelt down (although he was still much taller than I was) before me and wrapped me in a thick blanket.

"Come with me", he said. It may have been a little stupid to go along with the stranger, but I was so young, cold and confused. I had nowhere to go and thought, even at that young age, that if the man was a bad one he could have done anything to me in that secluded alley anyway.

As he walked out of the alley and down the now empty street, he spoke to me. "There are a lot of homeless people in this city, and a lot of children among them. Their hardship often makes them bitter, cruel thieves. I'm sorry I did not help you sooner, I don't immediately help anyone who arrives on my streets", he said.

I didn't answer; I just embraced the warmth of the blanket. He stopped at a small building, almost like a garage to the building beside it. He opened a rickety wooden door on the side of the bright white building and walked inside.

It was small, cramped but very warm room. The concrete floor was crudely covered in places by rugs, blankets and pillows, and three sleeping bodies gently rose and fell underneath old quilts in a corner.

"I am Ceran," he said, and lay me down on the soft floor of the room. "I, like you, was living on these streets but I worked hard and bought this shack."

I looked up at the tall man, unsure what to think. The room was wonderful, in my opinion. It was eclectically decorated with different paints and wallpapers, and the many varied quilts, pillows and blankets were so clean and warm. Now I was sitting, I could see the source of the heat: a boiler in the corner, open and exposing a roaring fire.

"This place may be small, but I pride myself on its cleanliness," said Ceran, with a smile, "so if you choose to stay here, and if I allow you to remain here, you must remember that. The boiler powers a shower in the backroom – there's a toilet in there too - but there's little hot water so you must ask before using it".

"Anyway, I'll tell you more tomorrow. Now, however, grab a blanket and get some sleep!"

I did just that. As strange as it seemed to go with this man and sleep in his house, I just did it. I had nowhere to go and was lonely, hungry and confused. That night, however, my worries washed away and I slept for what seemed like a blissful lifetime.

When I awoke I was disoriented. The usual sight of a cyan coloured sky was not there, but instead a mahogany ceiling, obscured slightly by rays of light coming from the lone window. Dust danced around in the light and I shut my eyes and shook my head.

I sat upright, wondering what I should do. The room was empty; the tall stranger Ceran and the three sleeping bodies were nowhere to be seen. But then, before I could move from my spot, the front door swung open harshly, banging on the wall beside it, and Ceran entered with long, slow steps. He was carrying a paper bag and followed by three children.

The tallest was a boy with brown hair. He was about a foot taller than I was, and must have been about eleven or twelve old. The second was a girl with light red hair. She smiled at me as she entered.

The last was a boy who was younger than I was. He had dark skin, short black hair and a big grin on his chubby face. "Sleepy-head woke up, Daddy!" he said.

Ceran reached for a recess on the wall and pulled out a long sheet of wood, two legs folded from underneath it and it became a table. He placed the paper bag and sat down.

"Come, sit," he said. As I walked towards the table, the red-haired girl sat down too. I dragged one of the small stools from the side of the room and climbed up onto it.

"Tell me, what is your name?" he asked as he began emptying the contents of the bag onto the table, item by item. There were fruits of many kinds, a small glass bottle of Frezi milk and a small clear bag of cereals.

I spoke for the first time in day, answering one of the only questions I could have at the time. I knew my name. "Rilic", I said, "Rilic Huewester." Ceran nodded and began peeling an exotic-looking fruit I had not seen before. "That's an unusual name around these parts," he said, and rolled the peeled fruit to the girl across the table from me. "Thanks, Ceran," she said.

"How did you come to live in that alley, Rilic," he asked and began to peel another fruit. "I don't know," I answered honestly. There seemed little point in lying to this man. I've tried to hard in the years since to remember how I got to that little alleyway, but I can't.

"Okay," he said, and passed the fruit onto me. I took it cautiously and smelled it. It was quite hard, with a wet yellowy texture. The red-haired girl was sucking away at it furiously, oblivious to Ceran and I.

I took her lead and licked the fruit. It tasted odd but refreshing. As I began to suck at it, Ceran started to talk again. "Okay, Rilic, you can stay here if you choose to do so, as long as you agree to my rules. This," he said, pointing to the girl, "is Ollias, but she prefers to be called Olli. She's obviously too rude to introduce herself."

The girl looked at me, waved with a cheeky grin and returned to her fruit. "Hi, Rill," she said. I waved back sheepishly.

"This little scamp," Ceran continued, gesturing towards the young boy who was playing with a wooden toy on the floor, "is my son, Fass, and the other boy, who is undoubtedly loitering outside, is Terak. Today is one year since his parents' death, so I'd advised you to leave him be for today. He's usually good natured, I assure you."

"So, I must open the stall. Mr. Breiavic will be unhappy if I don't get a prime spot. I'll leave you to become acquainted with each other and I'll be back at lunchtime. Try not to get our newcomer into trouble, Olli."

Olli grinned that same cheeky, knowing grin and nodded towards Ceran, who then made a funny sort of noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, and left through the large wooden door.

"So, Rill, let me show you around," she said rapidly and grabbed my hand. "This is, of course, the dining area where we eat all our, you know, food and stuff", she then leapt to the opposite wall, me in tow, "and here we have a cooking machine and a cooling machine for all our foods!" she then dragged me to the back room, where I had not been before, "and this is the shower and the toilet!" The small room was cramped but very clean, with terracotta tiles lining the floors and walls.

"So", she said, "what do you think?" she looked eagerly into my eyes. "I like it", I said, "It's very nice". And I really did think that, despite having little frame of reference. It was certainly a million times better than the cold, secluded alleyway.

Ollie sat down on the cushioned floor and I sat down beside her. "Why did Ceran bring you here", she asked, her voice was now much more calm.

"I don't know," I said, "I was alone in an alleyway and he came and brought me here'. She nodded. "I was living on my own. My daddy went away and Ceran brung me here".

"Hey Fass", she said, her voice manic and rapid once more, "come here and meet Rill!" I never thought to correct her on my name – I much preferred the short Rill to the boring Rilic.

The little boy – he was only 2 years old, but seemed a lot older in his mannerisms – trundled towards Olli and I. "Lo," he shouted loudly and sat on the floor. He was playing with a primitive wooden toy and didn't seem to want to do anything else.

"Come on, Fass, we're going to show Rilly around," she said, grabbed Fass with one hand and me with the other and ran out of the back door. "No! I play with welly!" protested Fass. The little shack looked the same in the daytime as it did at night. It was basically a whitewashed shed with concrete walls domed at the top. A red bring extension made up the small back room. This part of Hurliash, however, looked very different in the daytime.

When Ceran had brought me the night before, I couldn't really see much of the surroundings. Now, in the bright sun, it was a bustling favella. Rows of miss-matched buildings littered lay around in a jumbled, criss-cross manner. There was no coherency in the layout, with roads thickening and thinning as various buildings leaned across busy streets. It was crazy and brilliant.

"You're in Gellion town, now, Rill," said Olli with enthusiasm and dragged us both down the tiny street. "This is were the poor folk live," she said, "Ceran works down that way, in the market sector. He sells fruits for mister Breee-vitch. Mr. Breee-vitch is a nasty, smelly man".

G-town, as I began to call it, was a fantastic place. It was where all the weird and wacky people, nearly all of them poor, lived and worked. The air was filled with the smells of sellers' wares: perfumes, fruits and various spices. It almost seemed like a party, completely against what you'd expect from what was basically a slum.

Olli dragged me all round G-town that day, pointing out the various things she found interesting, such as the half-Human man with a gigantic round nose who sold various pots and pans from one of the shabbier looking market stalls (they looked all used, burnt and dirty) and the very distinct house of a Gherill family on the corner of Bulis Street. It was incredibly tall but really thin (about a metre squared). The stick-like resident chased us away as Olli tried to catch a glimpse through one of the tiny windows.

I think that my first day away from the alley was the earliest memory of true happiness I can remember… I was happy at the fruit I had gotten a few days earlier, but from this day on I felt like life had a purpose. I remember it with such clarity that it's almost like I've plugged a vision recorder into my brain and sucked out the memory so I could watch it, but I can remember barely anything from before it. It's as though my first years of life took place in darkness, but a fire was lit on that day that burned so bright it illuminated even the finest details and etched them into my retinas.

Olli fascinated me. After our run around G-town on that first day, we sat down at the table (Fass resumed his adventured with "welly"). She fascinated me then because of how sporadic she was. Earlier she was running and talking so fast I could hardly comprehend, but now she was calm and serious.

"I came here a long time ago," she said, "my daddy and I lived in the centre of the city. He was a businessman and we had lots of monies. But then he lost his job. I remember him crying and then he went away and I was all alone. I didn't know what do so I ran. I ran so fast and so hard that I got lost."

I nodded. I didn't know – I still don't know – what my parents did or what happened to them. They could have been lawyers or thieves, pirates or politicians. I'd think of exciting careers for them – my dad the space pirate, stealing money from the rich, evil folk and sharing it with those living on almost nothing – like we did.

Olli didn't have that pleasure. Her normally excitable tone always slipped into a duller, sadder one whenever her father came up. She'd openly talk about him, but never with her smile. She didn't mention her mother and I never asked.

"You haven't met Terak yet. He's great fun, but he's was really sad this morning when we went to get food," he said. She then did one of her trademark changes of direction (although it was all very new to me at the time), it was almost like she was bored of me (I wasn't saying much, I was quite shy on that first day) and, without explanation, leapt form her chair to the floor and tried to grab Fass's toy.

I watched them for a few minutes, but they were soon interrupted by the appearance of Ceran in the doorway. "Greetings," he said. He didn't look as bright and cheerful as he had done earlier.

"There will be little food tonight, I'm afraid," he said quietly. Olli simply nodded towards him "It's alright, Ceran!" she said cheerfully. "Yes," he said and drank from a silver thermal bottle he had taken from a hidden pocket in his brown robe.

"I do my best to feed and keep you for you have nowhere else to go. It's hard to survive in this city. The rich are so very rich and the poor get nothing in the way of help," he said, but it was apparently to himself.

After we had eaten a small lunch of bread and milk, Ceran took us to his stall. Olli helped him out from time to time (as did Terak, but he had not made an appearance all day, although this did not worry Ceran). Ceran's stall was in the busiest part of the market, covered with an ancient roof of oxidised copper. He sold various fruits and vegetables: the delicious red gualli fruit, the hard, green-skinned exotic marri-u'le from the northern continent and spicy herishi chillies. His trade was roaring, but he seemed listless and absent-minded.

Olli, however, was a salesgirl of unparalleled quality. She stood on the wooden table of the stall, walking back and forth booming advertisements at passing shoppers in a very loud voice.

G-town market was one of the most popular in the city, with people form all over Hurliash flocking to the town to see what it had to offer. The rich folk kept well away from the round-nosed man, though, and seemed to stay under the copper canopy.

As dusk settled on G-town, I left the busy stall and wandered around the rest of the market. It was vast and varied, with everything from fish to jewellery being thrust in shoppers' faces. I looked at a jewellery stall for a few moments, clutching my own pendant – my one link to my past.

When we began to pack up, darkness had very much fallen on the city. "Thanks to you, Olli, we made a lot of commission today. We will buy some Snorl meat on the way home and have a proper meal now to celebrate Rilic's arrival," he said.

Ceran stopped off at a butchery to buy the meat and posted an envelope filled with money through the letterbox of a small building on the way back. When we finally arrived home (I didn't really think of the place as home until several days later, though), Terak was lying down in the corner.

"Leave him be, Olli," warned Ceran as she began to walk towards the sleeping boy, a mischievous look across her face. Ceran begin to prepare dinner, pounding the meat he had bought with a large wooden implement.

"Oh, Rilic, you're in for a treat. Some curried Snorl with herishi and rice. My signature dish," he said proudly as he began to chop some herishi chillies. Olli leant over the table and whispered, "I like Snorl curry but Ceran'll be complaining about it all night when he can't get off the toilet!" and then giggled.

Snorl Curry, it turns out, is very delicious but very, very hot. It's now one of my favourite foods, though, second only to Marelli Sticks.

Whilst Olli, Ceran, Fass and I feasted, Terak didn't join us but was obviously awake and feigning sleep. My awakening to the world was too fresh for me to be truly sad about my parents disappearance (and probable demise), so I didn't really understand what he was going through that day. He wanted to be left alone and that's just what we did.

With my stomach full and settled, that night was another blissful one. Sleep in a comfortable warm room was officially much better than in the middle of a windy alleyway.


End file.
